Chapter 3: What a playboy!

Serena climbed into her car, gripping the steering wheel as a wave of melancholy settled over her like an unwelcome guest.

When Araminta moved in with Valentina and Josh, Serena had gently suggested that it wouldn’t be appropriate for her to share a home with Josh, who wasn’t related to her by blood. A polite request—that he find his own place—had seemed reasonable.

But Alfonso, ever eager to keep Araminta and Valentina happy, had hesitated. And rather than create conflict, Serena had quietly made the decision to move out herself.

Now I’m just an outsider in my own family, she thought bitterly, pressing the ignition button.

With no urgent work at the studio, she decided to head straight home. The cityscape blurred past her windows, neon signs flickering in the early evening light. But before she could lose herself in the solitude of the drive, her phone buzzed against the dashboard.

Seeing the caller ID, her mood dipped further.

Serena exhaled, letting it ring a few more times before reluctantly answering.

“Hello, Mrs. Vanderbilt,” she said, her tone even, guarded.

On the other end, Cordelia Vanderbilt—Alexander’s aristocratic, steel-hearted mother—spoke with her usual clipped precision.

“I want you to come to the Vanderbilt estate so we can discuss your divorce in person.” She didn’t wait for a response before adding sharply, “You should understand that the only reason you married Alexander was because of Cornelius’s insistence. Now that Alexander is in charge, Cornelius won’t interfere anymore.”

There it was.

The clear dismissal. The final push.

Serena had always known that Cordelia considered her beneath the Vanderbilt name. And while Serena had kept her distance, visiting only Cornelius occasionally, it had never been enough.

Now that Alexander has returned, they want me gone for good.

Cordelia, expecting resistance—perhaps tears, maybe even a desperate plea—was momentarily thrown when Serena’s response was cool, composed, devoid of emotion.

“All right. Should I come now?”

Her words were so steady, so unaffected, that for a brief moment, Cordelia hesitated.

Serena sounded as if she had been waiting for this.

Cordelia quickly recovered, sneering over the line, “I’m glad you understand. You don’t deserve Alexander. He needs someone far better than you. Come over now—I’ve also asked Alexander to join us.”

Serena’s fingers stilled against the leather steering wheel at the mention of Alexander.

What will he do when he realizes the woman he spent the night with is about to become his ex-wife?

A smirk ghosted across her lips. Someone as proud as Alexander would undoubtedly find the situation humiliating. But that wasn’t her concern.

Without another word, she ended the call and directed her car toward Hawlett Bay, the Vanderbilt family's private estate.

The Vanderbilt mansion loomed ahead, an architectural masterpiece set against the shimmering bay. The sprawling driveway was lined with meticulously trimmed hedges, and the grand iron gates swung open smoothly as she approached.

Inside, the air was crisp with the scent of expensive white roses, freshly arranged in tall crystal vases. The high ceilings and marble floors gleamed under the golden chandelier light, exuding wealth in every carefully curated detail.

Cordelia was already waiting in the sitting room, perched elegantly on a velvet chaise lounge. The way she held her teacup—delicate, yet dismissive—made it clear she had no intention of welcoming Serena as family.

“Let’s be honest,” Cordelia said, setting her teacup down with a soft clink. Her gaze was sharp, dissecting. “You know exactly what kind of situation your family is in.”

Serena met her gaze head-on. “Yes, I do.”

“Then here’s a word of advice.” Cordelia’s voice took on that condescending lilt she always reserved for ‘lesser’ people. “Your father was never meant to be a businessman. He should quit before he ruins himself further. The Vanderbilts helped him once—we won’t do it again.”

Serena said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

“And as for your stepmother,” Cordelia went on, her lip curling, “she’s clearly after our wealth and status. You, Serena, are nothing but a burden. You are not fit to be with Alexander. You simply aren’t good enough for him.”

The words might have stung if Serena had any attachment to this marriage.

Instead, she let out a slow breath and replied evenly, “You’re right.”

Cordelia’s composure faltered, just slightly.

There was no protest, no attempt to fight for her place in the Vanderbilt family. No desperate display of emotions.

To Serena, this marriage had always been a hollow arrangement—strangers bound by legalities. The divorce would be a relief.

But as Cordelia studied her, irritation flickered behind her cool facade. Victory felt hollow when the opponent didn’t fight back.

The sudden screech of tires outside drew Cordelia’s attention.

She rose from her seat, smoothing the fabric of her silk dress with an eager expression. Serena, however, remained still, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her untouched teacup.

Moments later, footsteps echoed through the grand hallway, but instead of Alexander, Jonathan, his ever-efficient assistant, appeared in the doorway, holding an elegant gift box.

“My apologies, Mrs. Vanderbilt,” Jonathan said smoothly, inclining his head with practiced politeness. “Mr. Vanderbilt had an unexpected appointment and won’t be able to make it tonight.”

Cordelia’s composed facade barely concealed the flicker of irritation in her eyes. She had deliberately withheld the detail of Serena’s presence when summoning Alexander, knowing full well he would have refused outright if he knew.

After all, he had fled the country the moment he learned about their marriage. Avoiding Serena had been his specialty for three years.

With a forced smile, she waved a dismissive hand. “I see. Tell him to take care of himself.”

Jonathan nodded and departed, leaving an uncomfortable silence in his wake.

Cordelia turned back to Serena, her patience wearing thin. “You can go now,” she said briskly. “I’ll call you when Alexander is available.”

Serena simply nodded, unfazed. “Okay.”

She hadn’t planned on staying for dinner anyway. Besides, whether they met today or another day, the outcome remained unchanged—the divorce papers were ready, and it was only a matter of time before their names were legally separated.

As she drove home, the glow of the city lights flickered across her windshield. At a red light, she absently scrolled through her work group chat, where messages popped up in rapid succession.

“I heard Alexander Vanderbilt is getting married soon. He just bought a residence in Manhattan and might have already started furnishing it!”

“Kevin went to school with Alexander. Maybe he can get us in!”

“If we land the project to design his wedding house, our studio’s reputation will skyrocket. His wealth alone could get us on Forbes’ list! Imagine working with someone of his caliber!”

Serena sighed. Few people knew about her marriage to Alexander—even the media had never speculated about it.

And now, they were scrambling for the chance to design his wedding house.

She wasn’t interested.

Just as the traffic light turned green, her phone buzzed again.

Kevin: Come to the 54 Club. A client is interested in your villa designs and wants to meet you personally.

Interior design hadn’t been her original career path. She had studied fine arts, but during her freshman year, a classmate had commissioned her to design a villa interior. An oligarch later bought the design for ten times its original price, catapulting her into the industry.

Kevin Nicholson had recruited her soon after, offering her a position at his studio. Though she worked there part-time, it wasn’t her main focus—she had other ambitions.

Still, if a client was interested in her work, she had no reason to refuse.

Turning the car around, she drove toward the 54 Club, one of New York’s most exclusive establishments. The club was synonymous with power, catering to the elite with its marble-floored lounges, dimly lit cigar rooms, and high-stakes private deals.

A second message from Kevin arrived as she pulled up to the entrance.

Kevin: Ava, I can’t come get you. Mr. Richardson said he’d have a friend escort you inside. Just wait at the entrance.

Serena frowned slightly. She didn’t have a club membership, so she had no choice but to wait.

Meanwhile, across town, Alexander’s phone buzzed with an incoming call from Raphael Richardson.

“Xander, I’ve got a friend I want you to meet,” Raphael said, the sound of background music pulsing through the line. “She’s waiting outside the club. Could you bring her in?”

Alexander’s brow furrowed. A setup?

“This is a gift you won’t regret,” Raphael added smoothly before hanging up, giving Alexander no time to refuse.

Alexander sighed, rubbing his temple. Knowing Raphael, this ‘gift’ is probably a woman.

He stepped out of his car, his sharp gaze scanning the entrance. The soft glow of streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement, and a familiar silhouette caught his eye.

His jaw tightened.

It was her.

The woman who had vanished from his bed that morning.

Serena had been standing quietly, scrolling through her phone, but as if sensing his presence, she looked up.

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.

She was poised, effortlessly elegant, dressed in a simple yet refined outfit that flattered her slender frame. The night breeze lifted strands of her hair, framing her face in soft waves.

So this is what she was up to?

Alexander’s expression darkened. He had wondered why she had left in such a hurry earlier. Now, it seemed obvious.

Raphael must have already paid her beforehand.

His voice was unreadable as he finally broke the silence. “You’re the one Raphael mentioned?”

Serena blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before realization dawned.

Mr. Richardson… Could he be the client Kevin mentioned?

A touch of irony curled at the corners of her lips.

Am I here to design Alexander’s wedding house?

How poetic.

Before her divorce was even finalized, she was being invited to design the home where her soon-to-be ex-husband would build a new life with another woman.

The situation was absurd, yet Serena wasn’t ashamed. She supported herself with her own talent, and no matter how awkward the circumstances, she wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to advance her career.

She met Alexander’s gaze steadily. “I believe so, Mr. Vanderbilt.”

His eyes, dark and calculating, held a flicker of something unreadable.

He didn’t look convinced.

“Let’s go.”

With that, he turned and walked into the club.

Serena followed, her heels clicking against the marble steps, stepping into a night she hadn't anticipated.